Miracles Don't Happen Once
by NoLongerThere
Summary: When Artie feels like he can't go on, it's the person he least expects, that brings him back to his normal state. Can the person who started it in the first place, really be the one to talk some sense into him?
1. You just need to remember

Miracles Don't Happen Once

Artie Abrams can't stand it anymore. The torture at school, the looks her gets as he wheels down the street, oh, and the fact that he'll never stand or walk again.

It takes a single person to ruin a life but it takes a single person to build it back up again.

And that person is who Artie expected least.

This is just going to be a quick one. I only plan on about 9 chapters but about half of them will be short like this one. Just a filler not the actual main part of the story.

Please Enjoy

MiniKimChi

**************************************** Chapter 1 ****************************************

Ms. Abrams sat at the kitchen table; tear streaks on her face, and glossy photos on the table. Pictures of her son running around the yard, climbing trees and doing everything that a normal 8-year-old should be doing surrounding her.

She turned the photograph over and looked at the date written on the back.

April 6, 2002

7 days later, her son wouldn't have a smile on his face. Instead, thousands of scrapes would replace that wide toothy grin.

7 days after that photo was taken, her son would be the way she knew him now. Sitting in a wheelchair unable to move his lower half.

Ms. Abrams was pulled from her thoughts by the front door being slammed shut.

Quickly, she gathered the photographs, stuffed them into the box and put it on top of the refrigerator. She hated using her son's disadvantage to hers. She hastily wiped the tears that remained on her face and turned to face her son who was just coming down the hall towards the kitchen.

"Hey mom," Artie said as he wheeled himself into the kitchen.

"Hi honey, how was school?"

"Fine," but Ms. Abrams knew better. Her son answered too quickly for it to be nothing.

Quietly she looked over at her son. Artie had just gotten a. Bottle of water from the fridge and was heading towards his room.

"It's not just nothing is it?" she asked causing Artie to stop is his tracks.

Slowly he turned around and looks his mom in the eyes. He had tear streaks down the side of his cheeks and more tears we about to fall.

"Mom," he asked slowly, "Why did I live?"

Those two words, why and live, hit Ms. Abrams hard when they were used in the same sentence. After the accident Artie had been depressed. He didn't eat and when he did, he threw up. He didn't talk and when he did, it was a single word. He didn't sleep and when he did, it was full of nightmares.

"Why am I even here?"

"Artie look at me," Ms. Abrams said walking over to Artie and kneeling down in front of him. "You are here because you are strong."

"I wasn't strong enough to come out of the accident like you." Artie said looking down at the hands in his lap.

"Sweetie, that was just a hurdle and you got over it." she paused. "Did I ever tell you about the first time I knew you were going to be strong enough to make it through anything?"

Artie shook his head. Ms. Abrams gently sat down against the hallway wall.


	2. Before His Time

Miracles Don't Happen Once

Yay! The actual part of the story and not just a filler. The first section is just a little thing that I wanted to write but the second part is the important section. (The second part begins at the 24 WEEKS LATER)

Also I'm sorry that it turned out so long. I just expected a basic set up but once I started to write it I really couldn't stop myself.

**A.N. Arthur is the name of Artie's dad and Aurelle (pronounced as R. E. L) is Artie's mom.**

Enjoy!

MiniKimChi

**************************************** Chapter 2 ****************************************

"Honey," Arthur Abrams called to his wife, "We need to hurry or we're gonna be late to the party."

Arthur was a man of almost six feet. He had a medium shade of brown hair that seemed darker because of the blueness of his eyes.

The Abrams, a newlywed couple, had been married for only six months. They were on their way to a friend's bachelor party as it was his last night single. It wasn't going to be a big thing just a basic party at the local bar with friends having a few drinks.

"Is it possible that I don't go?" Aurelle Abrams said walking down the stairs. She was dressed like she was ready to go but the tone of her voice said otherwise. Her Dark brown hair was pulled back into a messy bun. Her blue eyes stood out more prominent against her smoky eye shadow.

"Why? You've been talking about making Dave's last night single the best night he's ever had, for months now."

Aurelle walked down the rest of the stairs and stopped in front of her husband. Together they stood in the foyer of their little Columbus, Ohio apartment looking into each others eyes.

"I'm pregnant."

A smile began to creep across Arthur's face. "Are you sure?"

Aurelle nodded. "I haven't been feeling well for a while so I went to the doctor and he... He just told me today." 

"How far along?" Arthur asked his wife while looking at her stomach.

"Three weeks."

Arthur's smile grew even bigger. "Yeah you don't have to go and honestly I don't want to go either. We're going to have a baby Elle. A _baby_."

"I thought that you'd enjoy the news," Aurelle said as her husband embraced her in a hug.

24 WEEKS LATER

"We really need to start thinking about a name," Arthur said as he and Aurelle lay in bed. Aurelle was lying on her back while Arthur was lying on his side, his hand gently resting on his wife's noticeable larger stomach.

"But we don't even know is it's a girl or a boy," Aurelle said shifting so that she was looking at her husband.

"Why don't you want to know?"

"Because I just don't want to. I want to look into his or her eyes and just have a name pop into my head and know that's the one." Aurelle moved onto her side. "It's our first baby and I want it to be perfect."

Arthur smiled and wrapped her in close to his chest. "You know," he laughed as he kissed the top of her head, "That's one of the reasons I married you. You know what you want and you know how you're gonna get it."

Slowly Arthur opened his eyes. It was still dark outside and the sun was nowhere in sight. Silently, he groaned and rolled over to look at his clock. 2:23 AM. He sighed. He still had four hours until he had to get up start getting ready for work.

Carefully he rolled over and went to place his arm over Aurelle but when he let his hand fall, it dropped onto the mattress.

"Elle?" he called, his mind becoming more alert. "Elle?" He was nearly screaming at this point. He listened carefully trying to avoid all of the disastrous scenarios playing in his head.

He heard a sharp breathe from the bathroom and immediately began to run. Throwing open the door he found his wife lying on the cold floor clutching her stomach with a pained expression on her face.

"Aurelle!" Arthur yelled as he rushed to his wife side. He tried to pick her up so she was resting in his arms but she cried out at the movement. "Wait here, I'm gonna call 911."

Quickly he ran to the phone, nearly dropping it once he reached it. He managed to dial the three numbers in his frantic state, but after pressing the phone to his ear, it felt like hours that the person on the other end picked up.

"911 what's you're-"

"I don't know. My wife is on the floor and I don't know what's wrong, and, and-" Arthur rambled out forcing his words into logical sentences.

"Sir, I need you to calm down. What is your location?" the dispatcher said trying to calm Arthur down enough to get the necessary information out of him.

"630 East Town St. Apartment Number 114. You have to hurry!"

"Alright sir, the paramedics are on their way but I am going to stay on the line with you until they arrive alright?" The dispatcher asked but Arthur barely heard her. He was already running to his wife.

The hospital was only around the corner so it took only about a minute for the paramedics to arrive. They didn't have to knock at the door because Arthur was already there, showing them the way to his wife.

"I don't know what's wrong!" Arthur exclaimed as he watch the paramedics begin to work on his wife.

"We need to move her now," the first paramedic said to the second. "She's in labor."

That was all it took for Arthur to be thrown over the edge. His wife was just over the half way mark at 28 weeks pregnant with their first child and was in labor.

The drive to the hospital went through in a blur. So many things were running through Arthur's mind that he couldn't even just pick one and stick to it.

What if his wife died? What if his baby died? What was happening right now? What if the baby lived but was disabled? What if the baby lived then died? What is he never saw is wife again? What if he never saw his baby again? What if? What if? What if? So many questions that no one seemed to have an answer for.

Hurriedly, Arthur parked his car and ran into the hospital. He still wasn't able to focus on one thing but he tried his best to make sense of the words coming out of his mouth that he didn't even realize he was saying.

He ran straight for the reception desk. "Where's my wife?" he asked the receptionist a little harsher than he meant to.

"Name?" She asked with a tone that hinted she couldn't have cared less.

"Aurelle Abrams," Arthur said hushing his voice a little. "Aurelle A-U-R-E-L-L-E, Abrams A-B-R-A-M-S"

The woman typed and then looked up to him. "Sorry, we don't have that name in out system."

Arthur was about to argue with the woman when a man in a white coat came up to him. "Are you Mr. Abrams?" he asked looking Arthur in the eye.

Arthur nodded, unable to form the words he needed for a reply.

"You're wife was rush into emergency surgery. If you would follow me, I'll take you to the waiting room.

Arthur followed the doctor unable to do anything else for or about his wife.

The waiting room was just a little room down the hall from the operation room. It wasn't big but it had enough seats to fit 15 people. There were old magazines spread around the room on various tables but Arthur couldn't read more than a few words before panic would set in again.

It felt like forever that he sat there twitching his fingers and shaking his leg, but according to his watch it was only 20 minutes. It was only another three, until the doctor came into the room. Immediately Arthur jumped up and hurried over to him.

"Your wife is fine," the doctor said before Arthur could even get anything out of his mouth.

"What about my baby?"

"Your son, I afraid wasn't as lucky. The doctor said, a grim look in his eyes.

"Is he… oh God no…" Arthur said putting his head in his hands. He could feel the tears forming in his eyes. He just lost his baby boy. The baby boy that he would never get to meet, never get to teach how to walk and run. Never get to learn how to climb a tree or ride a bike. Nothing.

"No, he isn't dead," the doctor said putting his hand on Arthur's shoulder. "His lungs haven't fully developed yet and there are a few other things that are potentially life threatening but he's a fighter."

Arthur let out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding. His baby was alive but just barely. He didn't even listen to what else the doctor was saying. Things like mental delays, blindness, deafness, and other things but Arthur didn't care. He had a son who was alive.

"You can see him if you would like," the doctor said standing up and heading to the door, breaking Arthur from his trance.

"No I want to see him with my wife."

The doctor nodded. "If you would just follow me, I will take you to her room."

Arthur nodded, stood up, and followed the doctor out the door towards his waiting wife.


	3. Too Many Numbers To Deal

Miracles Don't Happen Once

For the medical terms in the first paragraph noted with a *****, please see the list at the bottom of this entry.

Thank you **so** much for the positive comments and reviews you all have given me. I really do appreciate them. Also please do not be afraid to comment on anything that needs improvement for work.

Also, any ideas for future stories you want, just send me a message and let me know what you want to read.

Enjoy!

MiniKimChi

**************************************** Chapter 3 ****************************************

"They said you had a 70% chance of survival," Ms. Abrams said, as she played with the coffee mug in her hands. She and Artie had somehow managed to make their way to the kitchen table. "Bronchopulmonary dysplasia***** 60%, pneumonia* 40%, infection 50%, intraventricular hemorrhage* 85%, retinopathy of prematurity* 25%, patent ductus arteriosus* 50%, hearing loss 25%, cerebral palsy 25%, autistic symptoms 35%, mental retardation and learning and behavioral problems 40%. They just kept giving us so many numbers."

"I was so small," Artie said picking up one of the photos in front of him.

His mother looked at the photo. It was of a baby inside a plastic incubator. The baby was lying on its stomach and was connected to so many wires it looked fake. Its head was about the size of a tennis ball and his hands were so small they made a wedding ring look like a rattle.

"Every day your father and I would go to the hospital and just sit and watch you. If you moved your hand it was like we just won the lottery."

Artie gently put the picture down and look at his mother. "Why didn't I know about this before?"

"Your father and I agreed to tell you when you were older or if you asked about it but after the accident, it wasn't the most important thing on our minds."

Together, mother and son sat at the table looking through the photos Ms. Abrams had worked so hard to keep hidden.

"What's this one?" Artie asked picking up another photo. Mrs. Abrams looked it over and new tears began to form on her eyes.

"This wasn't when I was born, was it?" Artie asked but it was more like a statement.

"You were three and took a bad fall down the stairs." Mrs. Abrams said, her eyes glancing to the steps unintentionally. She looked back to the photo. "That one was my fault too."

"Mom, nothing was your fault."

"Yes it was. At was all my fault."

*********************************** Medical Terms *****************************************

**Bronchopulmonary Dysplasia (BPD)** – When a baby's lungs show evidence of deterioration.

**Pneumonia** – An infection in the area of the lung involved in the exchange of carbon dioxide and oxygen and causes inflammation which reduces the amount of space available for the exchange of air.

**Intraventricular hemorrhage (IVH**) – Bleeding in their brain.

**Retinopathy of Prematurity (ROP)** – Potentially blinding eye disorder.

**Patent ductus arteriosus (PDA)** – A heart problem where the large artery called the ductus arteriosus lets blood bypass the lungs because in the womb the fetus gets its oxygen through the placenta. The ductus arteriosus normally closes soon after birth so that blood can travel to the lungs and pick up oxygen but because or prematurity it does not close.


	4. It's Not Easier The Second Time

Miracles Don't Happen Once

~*~*~*~*~*살다~*~*~*~*~*~*~*꿈~*~*~*~*~*~*~*사랑~*~*~*~*~*~*

Sorry it is short and took so long to post. It was a hard one to write since I have never experienced a family member or anyone else in this situation. The premature baby I have, but never this and I hope that I never do.

Either way, I tried my best.

Oh, and let me know if you like the new header, the ~*~*~ thing. The Korean is, in order from left to right, **live**, **dream**, **love**.

Please comment and let me know if I messed anything up.

즐기다! (Enjoy!)

MiniKimChi

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Chapter 4 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"Artie, stay away from the steps please," Mrs. Abrams warned her son, for what seemed like the 10th time that minute.

"Why?" came the response she was expecting.

"Because I want to you to help me tell if this shirt is yours of daddy's." Mrs. Abrams smiled as she heard the heavy footsteps of her son running towards her. She held up the shirt as Arthur Thomas Abrams came running into the room.

Arthur, or Artie as he like being called, was all of three years old and did everything a three year old should do. He ran in the house, jumped on the bed, didn't eat his veggie and more.

He, although three, was an exact perfect mix of his parents. He had dark brown hair that he got from his mother, his smile came from his dad and the pale blue eyes, were from both of them.

"Dat daddiez!" Artie called, running over to his mom. It to big!"

"Are you sure?" she asked picking Artie up and dropping him on the bed.

The room was filled with shrieks of joy as Aurelle tickled her son. Suddenly he got out of her grasp. He stood on the bed and looked like he was ready to pounce.

"No!" he screamed but he had a smile on his face. "I tikul yuu." He reached his arms out, turned his face away, and began to attack his mom.

They wrestled for about five minutes when suddenly, over the sound of laughter, the front door was heard being opened and closed.

"Daddiez home!" Artie screamed, jumping off the bed and racing down the stairs. "Daddi, mommi and me played-" but before the boy could finish his sentence his world was thrown downwards.

Mrs. Abrams, hearing the one thing she swore her son would never have to experience, leapt up and ran to the steps.

Everything happened in slow motion. Each step, each tear, each gasp and reach for her son, who slowly made his way down the stairs. It seemed like forever until Artie stopped bouncing off the steps and it seemed to take even longer for Ms. Abrams to reach him. Mr. Abrams was already there, not willing to move his son for the fear he might harm him further.

Artie was lying on his back, his arms and legs flailed out like he was still falling. He looked like he was sleeping but the pool of blood forming around his head said otherwise.

"Aurelle!" Mr. Abrams yelled to his wife, trying to gain her attention, "Don't move him while I call the paramedics."

Mrs. Abrams nodded as if that was the only thing that she was programmed to do. She didn't even hear her husband in the background giving the paramedics the necessary information that was needed.

Mrs. Abrams couldn't watch as the paramedics put Artie onto the backboard and stuck the needles into his arms. She had to turn away as they loaded Artie into the back of the ambulance, because she swore to herself the day he was born to never let anything happen to him ever again.

Mrs. Abrams was so glad that her husband came home when he did. If he hadn't Artie would be dead. She wouldn't have wanted to leave him to call the paramedics and she wouldn't have even been able to drive herself to the hospital.

The drive to the hospital mainly consisted of Mr. Abrams telling his wife that everything would be okay, and that Artie was a strong boy, but Mrs. Abrams knew that. What worried her was the effect after he made it.

After Artie was discharged from the hospital the first time, it was hard. He had grown enough to support himself, but the following months were difficult. He couldn't eat by himself and had to be fed through a tube. He couldn't follow anything with his eyes and for a while Mrs. Abrams thought he was blind despite what the doctors told her. Everything was a nightmare but now it seemed that nightmare was back.

Once the Abrams arrived at the hospital, they were put into one of several waiting rooms while their son, was rushed into emergency surgery. The doctors, at the time, didn't say what for, but both the Abrams could tell it was for something serious.

Two hours went by of doctors walking past the room and Mrs. Abrams asking why they weren't coming into the room.

"Mr. and Mrs. Abrams?" a doctor asked, poking his head in through the now open door.

"Yes," Mr. Abrams answered as his wife just sat there, amazed by a doctor finally in the room.

"Hello. I'm Dr. Perry. I'm taking care of your son. The surgery went very well but the outcome is still to be determined," he told them emphasizing the some.

"What does that mean?" Mrs. Abrams asked as Dr. Perry came and sat down next to them.

Dr. Perry sighed. "When he fell he sustained a depressed skull fracture which in turn, caused a bit of swelling in his brain. We were able to get the swelling under control but we are unable to tell if, at this time, it has caused any damage."

Mrs. Abrams let her head fall into her hands as she began to weep. Mr. Abrams but his arm around her shoulders and tried to comfort her.

"If you would like to see him…" Dr. Perry said, causing Mrs. Abrams to jump slightly. Mr. Abrams just nodded his response, picked up his wife, nearly carrying her out the door, towards his son's room.

The room wasn't too far from where the Abrams' had been waiting. It was just around the corner but Mrs. Abrams couldn't stand the time in-between the walking down the hall to standing in front of Artie's door.

The doctor opened the door and Mrs. Abrams' hands flew up to cover her mouth. There was her son, bringing back so many memories from a past she worked so hard to forget.

Artie was lying in the bed surrounded by machines and wires. He looked too small for the bed but he was there non-the less. His head had been shaven on one side and was wrapped in a bandage that was too white.

There was a tube down his throat giving him oxygen and so many wires were taped to him Mrs. Abrams felt sick. Even Mr. Abrams was feeling a bit queasy. His mind kept flashing back to the first time his son looked so vulnerable at just 27 weeks old, literally.

The same questions kept running through his mind. What if his son died? What if his son lived but was disabled? What if his son lived then died? What if he never saw his son again? What if? What if? What if?

Everything was the same but this time he knew his son. He knew his personality was bubbly and happy. He knew what his son loved to do on Friday nights with him. He knew his son.

"We will know more information by tomorrow and will let you know then," Dr. Perry said. He walked over to the Abrams and his eyes softened. "I am terribly sorry for this," he said, then he turned and walked out through the door leaving the Abrams with his broken son for the second time.

"This is all my fault, just like last time," Mrs. Abrams cried into her husband's shoulder. "It's _all_ my fault."

"You couldn't have know," Mr. Abrams responded, rubbing his wife's back and leading her over to a chair, where he set her down then did the same.

"No, It's my fault. All of it."


	5. It Wasn't Her Fault

Miracles Don't Happen Once

~*~*~*~*~*살다~*~*~*~*~*~*~*꿈~*~*~*~*~*~*~*사랑~*~*~*~*~*~*

So really short one. Just a interlude to the next chapter. I don't know when it will be up because it's going to be a long one but it should be up sometime next week.

Please comment and I know that there is going to be definitely 2 more chapters but let me know if you think there should be another incident after thecar accident. I have one I can write but I don't know if it would be a little boring.

Well enjoy!

MiniKimChi

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Chapter 5 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"Mom it was my fault. I jumped up to run to dad. You couldn't stop me."

"I should have been right there though," Mrs. Abrams said brushing the tears away from her eyes.

"And what would that have done? It was already to late." Artie said putting the photo back onto the table and looking his mom square in the eye. "Nothing happened so what's the problem?"

"The problem is that it happened in the first place," Mrs. Abrams said in a tone that was a bit harsher than she meant. "I swore to my self the day we brought you home the first time, that I wouldn't let anything else happen to you and look what happen."

"Mom, I-" Artie started, but he was interrupted by his dad walking into the kitchen.

"Hey," he said walking over to the table and giving them both a kiss. "What are you two doing?"

Both mother and son remained silent while Mr. Abrams' eyes wandered over the photos spread across the table in front of him. "Oh, I think I know. Why this, all of a sudden?"

"Mom brought it up after I told her I just had a bad day at school," Artie said, not looking up from the photos. Mr. Abrams nodded.

"Well if the photo in front of you was the one your talking about then I guess…" he paused looking around the table, "this one is next." He picked the picture up and placed it in front of Artie.

Artie smiled. It wasn't a bad picture or anything. It was just of him sitting up in the hospital staring out the window. His smile faded. He knew the exact moment that picture was taken. It was probably an hour after, that the doctor had come in and told him his legs would never work again and he had fallen into a depression.

Mrs. Abrams let out a sob, causing her husband and son to look at her, worry in their eyes. They both knew what was coming next.

"Don't even try to tell me that one wasn't my fault."

"But mom, it wasn't. It was the drunk driver."

"He's right honey, it was that idiot's fault, not yours."

"I should have been paying closer attention," Mrs. Abrams said taking another photo off the table. "I should have seen it coming. Everything was going perfect that day and whenever things go perfectly in our lives something bad always happens later. I should have seen it coming. I should have been ready."


	6. And It Still Isn't Pt1

Miracles Don't Happen Once

~*~*~*~*~*살다~*~*~*~*~*~*~*꿈~*~*~*~*~*~*~*사랑~*~*~*~*~*~*

**So this is the one that I have been dying to write for forever. That probably sounds horrible but how I was going to write it has been floating around in my head for about forever. So finally… HERE IT IS!**

**Yay!**

A.N. My sister helped my to write this one in a few spots. I had to give her credit where credit is due. She isn't on FanFiction, but I'm just going to call her SeniorMiniKimChi. (She's older so I couldn't call her MiniMini)

**Enjoy (****ㅅ****.****ㅅ****)**

MiniKimChi

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Chapter 6a ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

"Mom, are you all set with everything?" Mrs. Abrams asked her mother-in-law, who was having computer trouble. Mrs. Abrams had gone over to help her fix the problems.

"Yes, thank you. You know, I don't think I'll ever be able to get the hang of this thing."

"You'll get it Mimi," Artie said walking into the family room with a cookie in his hand. He had tagged along with his mother since he hadn't seen his Mimi in a while.

"Artie, before dinner?" his mom asked, eying the cookie.

"I was hungry."

Mrs. Abrams sighed while Mimi just laughed. "Well, I don't need help with anything else so go home, eat."

Mrs. Abrams shot her mother-in-law an apathetic look while Artie began to nibble on his cookie.

"Alright, come on. Mom if there's anything else, just call," Mrs. Abrams said as she began to pack up her bag. Her mother-in-law just nodded.

Although Mr. Abrams was the one who normally fixed his mother's computer, he was stuck at work on a project, so Mrs. Abrams went instead. Being a software engineer who designed software and various types of other things for multiple, big name, computer companies had its perks. When her husband was busy it allowed her to visit her mother-in-law and it also gave Artie time to visit too.

"Bye Mimi," Artie called as he struggled to put his shoes on while trying to keep the cookie in his mouth. Mrs. Abrams walked over to him and helped him slip the shoe on while he finished the cookie.

"Bye mom," Mrs. Abrams called as she and Artie walked out the door and down the stairs from Mimi's condominium.

"Come visit again soon," Mimi called, waving from the top of the steps. And with that Mrs. Abrams and Artie headed out the main door towards their car.

"Mom," Artie asked questioningly as he got into the backseat of the car, "can we get the same kind of cookies Mimi has? She has the good kind."

Mrs. Abrams just laughed as she placed her bag in the back while Artie buckled himself up. "If you find out what kind, then sure. Call Mimi when we get home to find out okay?" Artie just smiled his classic, toothy grin.

Mimi's house wasn't far from the high way nor was it far from the Abram's house. It was only about a half-hour ride, but Artie couldn't wait to get home and find out what type of cookie she had. It was a chocolate chip kind, he knew that, but it didn't taste like chips ahoy.

"Mom, can you turn the radio on?" Artie asks, and Mrs. Abrams hit the button, allowing the car to fill with The Fray's, How to Save a Life. Artie began to sing along.

Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend

_Somewhere along in the bitterness_

_And I would have stayed up with you all night_

_Had I known how to save a life_

Mrs. Abrams was about to join in when suddenly everything was thrown out of control. Mrs. Abrams was thrown left into the window while Artie was thrown in the same direction out of the top portion of his seatbelt.

The tiny car the Abrams were in was forcefully pushed to the left out of their lane by a truck that was twice the size of their car. Suddenly the Abrams' right tires caught, sending the car rolling off the road. The car flipped, five times leaving the car resting upside-down in the end. The car wasn't on the road when it came to rest, but instead off to the side, slammed up against a tree.

Slowly, Mrs. Abrams opened her eyes. Looking around she noted she was lying on her stomach surrounded by glass, but she couldn't remember how she ended up that way.

She winced and her hand shot up to where she felt a prick on her head. Looking down at her hand, after she removed it from her head, she noted the blood. She took a deep breath trying to steady herself.

'_Ok, I was at mom's fixing her computer. I solved the problem then I left and Artie and I were– Oh God, Artie!'_

Worriedly, Mrs. Abrams looked around the car. She was on the roof that much she was sure of, and Artie was… She looked to the back of the car.

Artie was still strapped into his seat but he was dangling upside-down from the lower half of his seatbelt. His legs were caught under the seat in front of him, which had been crunched backwards towards him. His arms were dangling under him, blood creeping down them from an unknown source.

"Artie?" Mrs. Abrams asked as she carefully tried to reach out to him. She gently grasp his hand, "Artie if you can hear me I want you to squeeze my hand."

Faintly, she heard sirens in the distance growing closer but she wasn't worried about that. Artie didn't respond. Not a twitch, not a pinch, nothing.

"Arthur Thomas Abrams, you listen to me and squeeze my hand right now!" she commanded but still nothing happened.

All of a sudden, from what seemed like every direction, there was a buzz of activity surrounding the crumpled and mashed car. Lights were flashing surrounding the car and reflecting off the now wet road. As the rescue squad and paramedics began to swarm around the car to try and stabilize it from moving any further, glass crunched beneath their feet. A fine mist began to fall through the open window, causing the smell of smoke and burning rubber to vanish.

Outside, the world was full of various sounds and screaming with life but inside the car was deathly quiet. Artie wasn't conscious and Mrs. Abrams, with all of the thoughts running through her head, wasn't able to put a logical sentence together.

"Ma'am, I need you to tell me if you are hurting anywhere." A man said as he lay down on the ground in front of Mrs. Abrams.

"Don't tell me he's dead," she told the man as he shined a pen light into her eyes.

"Jul, she's got a concussion." The man said to some one behind him. Then the man turned back to Mrs. Abrams. "Don't tell you who's dead?"

"My baby," she said and the man looked down to her stomach.

"How far along are you?"

"No, my baby," she said and she turned her head towards the back of the car.

"Ma'am, I need you to keep your head straight," the paramedic said as he slipped a neck collar on Mrs. Abrams neck and secured it.

"Kevin!" a man called from the other side of the car. "We got a kid back here!"

Kevin, the first paramedic, motioned for a rescue team to get Mrs. Abrams out from the car, then he ran to the other side and looked into the broken back window.

Sure enough, when he looked in there was a boy who couldn't have been more than 6.

"Ma'am, how old is your son?" Julian, the second paramedic asked.

"Artie is… Oh God… Eight." Mrs. Abrams managed after she had some trouble remembering.

Kevin looked at Artie. He was small for his age. He just hoped that worked in Artie's favor.

Carefully, Kevin put his fingers on Artie's neck. Pausing for a moment her listen for the tell tale sign of a heartbeat.

_Bah-bump, bah-bump, bah-bump_

Kevin smiled. Artie was alive… but how long would he remain like that?

"Julian! He's alive but I don't know how long he's gonna be like that, or how bad he's injured," Kevin called to his partner as Mrs. Abrams was loaded into the back of another ambulance. As soon as he was sure she was fine and on her way to the hospital, he ran over to Kevin. "Sever cut to right temporal area," Kevin said from inside the car. He had managed to squeeze himself into the car to get a better assessment of Artie's condition and position. "Several other cuts to arms and face. Looks like a fracture to the left arm and I'm not sure about the legs."

"Hey! I want this side of the car stabilized! We got a kid in here and we're not sure how bad he's injured!" Julian yelled to the rescue squad as he passed a neck brace to Kevin.

As the rescue squad rushed to stabilize the car, Kevin and Julian began to try and stabilize Artie. Carefully, Kevin supported Artie so that his full weight wasn't pulling on his spine, as Julian wrapped his arm to try and prevent it from moving when they removed him from the car.

The rescue squad worked for about three minutes, putting wooden blocks under the car and larger beams in other places. They took off parts of the doors and other various metal pieces that were sticking out in dangerous positions.

"Alright Kev, everything's ready out here, are you ready to move him?" Julian asked his partner as a backboard was slid into the broken car.

"I'm ready but I want you to go extra slow. I don'."

"Got it."

Slowly, the two paramedics positioned the rigid board against Artie's back and strapped him to it. Strapping his arms across his chest, they, even slower than before, positioned Artie so it looked like he was lying on his side. Julian moved Artie's legs flat on the board and strapped them in, and then he moved in position to pull Artie out.

After what seemed like an hour, Artie was pulled from the wreckage banged up, but alive.

"Gently, Kevin and Julian placed Artie on the stretcher and, with the speed of a hurricane, they took off towards the ambulance to get to the hospital.

"Everyone needs to move because he should have been at the hospital 10 minutes ago!" Julian screamed as he loaded Artie into the back of the ambulance while Kevin climbed into the driver's seat. After he was sure Artie was secured, Julian climbed into the back too, and motioned to Kevin to step on it. The hospital wasn't far but it was still a good 15 minutes away.

"Male, eight-years-old, unconscious with a deep laceration to the right temporal area, possible fractured left arm and scrapes to most of upper body." Julian heard his partner say as he began towards the hospital.

Swiftly, Julian stuck a needle into Artie's arm, trying to give him the medicines he needed, and after six years on the job, he could still get it on the first shot, in a moving vehicle, bouncing up and down.

Making sure that Artie was still securely fastened to the backboard and his neck brace was secure he did a quick inventory of Artie's injuries.

He had a deep cut on the right side of his head that was now covered with gauze. He had hundreds of cuts on his arms, legs, face, and torso but most of them were just little nicks, which were nothing that a bandage and a kiss from mommy wouldn't cure. His left arm was definitely broken, judging from the slight bend in the upper forearm.

Quickly Julian pulled out his penlight to check Artie's pupil size. Shifting towards Artie's head to open his eyes, he noticed they were already open. Artie's light blue orbs were staring aimlessly at the ceiling unaware of the world around him. Julian could tell already that Artie had a concussion. One pupil was clearly bigger than the other.

"Hey sport," Julian said as he shined the light into Artie's eyes, "you comin' back to us?"

Artie blinked and shifted his eyes to look at the man who had spoken to him. He opened his mouth as if to talk but all that came out was a gargled sob.

"Hey, hey, don't talk okay. I want you to tell me with your fingers how old you are but only use your right hand okay. You hurt your left one."

Slowly Artie's right hand moved so that it was open, with five fingers extended, then he moved his thumb and pinky, so they were resting on his palm touching.

"How's he doin'?" Kevin yelled as the hospital came into view.

"He's awake but he looks like your daughter when she's stayed up too late. He's gonna conk any minute."

"Keep him awake. We're almost there."

"Hey, Artie," Julian asked leaning over him so he didn't try to move his head, "When I say a part of your body, I want you to tell me if it hurts okay? Blink once for yes, twice for no."

Julian smiled as Artie blinked once.

"Right arm."

_One blink_

"Left arm."

_Two blinks_

"Head."

_One blink_

"Body and chest."

_One blink_

"Left leg."

_Two blinks_

"Right leg."

Slowly Artie blinked but after the first blink he didn't open his eyes. Julian laughed. Poor kid made it that far but he did well. He tried.

Suddenly the ambulance jerked to a stop and Julian began to prep Artie for transfer. Kevin jumped out of the driver's seat and ran to the back. He threw open the doors and pulled the stretcher out. Julian jumped out of the back and helped Kevin wheel Artie into the hospital.

They were met at the door by several doctors in white coats as Kevin wheeled Artie through the doors of the hospital and past Mr. Abrams.

Mr. Abrams looked at his unconscious son. Artie was strapped to a stretcher that was too big for him and made him look smaller. His little shirt had been cut away exposing his now red and cut up torso. His right arm was bandaged and a large gauze was taped to the right side of his head. He had hundreds of scrapes and cuts covering his face and a breathing mask was over his mouth and nose.

Mr. Abrams broke down. His son had been to the hospital more time than he had and now he was back again. Mr. Abrams didn't know what to think about. Something in the back of his mind told him Artie wouldn't be so lucky this time. He had managed to get out of the last two instances unscathed but this time. Would he even be so lucky?

~*~*~*~*~*살다~*~*~*~*~*~*~*꿈~*~*~*~*~*~*~*사랑~*~*~*~*~*~*

**So… this is going to be in two parts. It was just getting to the point where it was to long to post into one chapter. I think when it's 8 pages on Word, that's the point where you have to break it up.**

The first part, this one, was just about him getting in the accident, and going to the hospital. The second part is going to be about once in the hospital, and the events that occur while there.

Also the second part won't be up for a while. I have to go to the hospital, but it should be up in maybe a week or two. It depends on how up to it I feel and how busy I am after the surgery.


	7. And It Still Isn't Pt2

Miracles Don't Happen Once

~*~*~*~*~*살다~*~*~*~*~*~*~*꿈~*~*~*~*~*~*~*사랑~*~*~*~*~*~*

**JUST A LITTLE UPDATE! **0.o

**So yeah… this one is the second part to **_**And It Still Isn't **_**and it's not as late as I thought it would be. **

**I thought it would be later but it turns out, not being able to hear while stuck in a hospital and at home unable to watch TV is boring, so I managed to get this done sooner than I planed.**

**I wasn't in the hospital for anything serious though. My sister and I went to get our new cochlear implants. We had to get the implant part changed out since mine had glitches and my sister's electrodes (the part that goes in the cochlea) were out of position.**

**I still have to wait about two to three weeks before they let me actually use the processing part of it, so until then I'm completely deaf. It doesn't bother me because I can sign but it's going to bother me that I can't go to the movies.**

**Visit ****.com/cochlear-implants/nucleus-5-system/smallest-sound-processor**** if you want to know more about cochlear implants. It's actually pretty cool how something so small can make a profoundly deaf person hear.**

**If anyone has any questions just let me know and I (and my sister, who is behind me signing madly to include her) will answer them for you.**

**Enjoy part 2! (****ㅅ****.****ㅅ****)**

MiniKimChi

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Chapter 6b ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Mrs. Abrams sat in the blue cushioned chair in the waiting room crying. She hadn't stopped, since the paramedics told her Artie wouldn't be going with them to the hospital because he was still trapped in the car.

She had been released from the hospital half-an-hour ago but she didn't want to leave even to take a shower and change. She just wouldn't leave her son. She wouldn't and couldn't.

Mr. Abrams was sitting in the chair next to his wife, trying to calm her down as they waiting for someone to tell them their son's situation. All they knew was it was bad. It had to be if they had to wait eight hours just to get an answer.

After eight hours of sitting in the same room, he was beginning to get sick of it. Pure white walls with random blotches of color from old magazines sitting on the tables and chairs. Spots of green dotted the corners from plants and the blue of the chairs lined the walls. Mr. Abrams was just about to go and get another glass of water how his wife when a doctor walked into the room.

The man was maybe the same age but strands of gray were traced in the dark brown hair. The eyes were a bright and pure green and the face was pulled into a smile that said 'hello' and 'I'm sorry' at the same time.

"Dr. Perry?" Mr. Abrams asked and Mrs. Abrams looked up in confusion and surprise.

"Arthur, Aurelle," Dr. Perry said as he extended his hand to each of them. "I had hoped that we wouldn't see each other under these conditions, but here we are."

"Why are you here?" Mrs. Abrams said, and then her eyes widened realizing how harsh that sounded. "I mean, I thought you worked with younger children."

"Well, in the five years since I last saw you, I've moved up." Dr. Perry looked into both Mr. and Mrs. Abrams eyes. "I don't want anything to happen to him that can be avoided. He is and will be, the only case I plan on taking for the extent of his time here. I want my full attention on him."

Mrs. Abrams broke down, managing a 'thank you' in between her sobs. Mr. Abrams put his arm around his wife and she leaned into it, wetting his shirt with her tears.

"How is he?" Mr. Abrams asked looking Dr. Perry in the eyes preparing for the worst.

"Well," Dr. Perry started like he wondered how to put it, "the surgery went well but his injuries were quite severe." Mrs. Abrams looked up, listening to the doctor talk about her son. "He has a slight fracture to his upper left arm. We put it in a cast and it should be completely healed in about four to six weeks."

Mr. and Mrs. Abrams both let out a relieved breath but Dr. Perry continued.

"He sustained a pretty deep cut to the right side of his head, so we stitched that up and it shouldn't be anymore of a problem but we'll still keep out eye on it. He has a few broken ribs that were affecting his breathing so we fixed them. As long as he doesn't move too much, they'll be fine."

"Those don't sound too bad," Mr. Abrams said fearing that Dr. Perry just over exaggerated.

"Those were the minor injuries. His most serious injury was to his spine."

Mrs. Abrams gasp and her hands flew up to her face to cover her mouth. Mr. Abrams' eyes went wide and he reached out his hand, which his wife took in hers.

"According to the police report Artie was found only in the lower portion of his seat belt."

"But he always wears the full seat belt," Mrs. Abrams objected, remembering how Artie put the whole seatbelt on when they were leaving her mother-in-law's house.

"I believe you but we think that Artie's torso came out of the top portion of his seatbelt because of his small stature, and with the rolling of the car, it causing his spine to be pulled out of alignment and crushed together. That caused three vertebrae in his lower back to break. Normally, this wouldn't be too serious but when the car stopped rolling and came to rest upside down, because of the three broken vertebrae, his weight pulled on his spinal chord. It was almost completely torn in half but we did what we could to fix it."

"You said normally," Mr. Abrams said. His grip on his wife's hand grew tighter and so did hers. He was scared for his son and what the doctor was trying to say. They both were.

"It's too early to tell but judging by the extent of the damage to his spine presently, we believe he will loose his ability to walk."

It was Mr. Abrams turn to cry. Several tears began to make their way down his cheeks. His mind was running through so many different thoughts and brushing his tears away was not one of them. His son, more than likely, wouldn't be able to walk. No more helping him rides his bike, no more walks around the block after dinner, nothing. Now everything would be different.

Mrs. Abrams was crying and thinking about all the things that wouldn't be too. Play soccer or baseball, run up to her and jump in his lap during story time, dance with his first girlfriend or at his prom or wedding. He wouldn't be able to do any of that now.

"I'm going to allow you to see him," Dr. Perry said, breaking the Abrams from their thoughts, "but he is going to be sedated."

Both Abrams nodded, stood up, and followed Dr. Perry out of the drab little room towards their son. They weren't too sure of what Artie would look like. Mr. Abrams hadn't seen his son except for the few brief seconds they rushed Artie past him and Mrs. Abrams was just worried if he would look worse.

They walked down a hall then turned down another. The minutes seemed to pass by too slowly and the seconds seemed to drag on. Each footstep echoed too loudly and each breath was too soft. Their son was so close, yet they had a thousand miles to go.

Dr. Perry stopped in front of a door and turned to face Artie's anxious parents. "For what he has been through, he looks better than most."

Mr. and Mrs. Abrams nodded and Dr. Perry turned around, opened the door, and let them into Artie's room.

Artie way lying on the white hospital bed again, bringing Mr. and Mrs. Abrams back to the past. He looked too small for the bed and brought even more tears to his parent's eyes. His pale blue eyes were shielded and his toothy grin was gone. Everything about his was different and everything about him was dead.

He was lying on his stomach, his head turned towards the door and his parents. His left arm was in a blue cast and on the rest of him, were several other bandages covering minor cuts.

"We're going to keep him sedated for about a week." Dr. Perry said bringing the Abrams back to the present. "He experienced a very serious injury and this is the best thing for him."

"So, there's nothing we can do?" Mr. Abrams questioned Dr. Perry, hoping his answer wouldn't be what he was expecting.

"I afraid not. You can talk to him but I'm afraid it will not help at all if any."

"When will he be waking up again?" Mr. Abrams asked again, blinking away the tears that were forming and trying to remember what Dr. Perry had said before.

"If everything if healing and progressing nicely, in about a week."

"But he will wake up, right?" Mrs. Abrams asked sounding like she was pleading for him to answer her question with the answer she wanted to hear.

Dr. Perry nodded. "He _will_ wake up," he said emphasizing the will, "He's strong."

**So, as I was writing this, I found a good place to stop, so this chapter (section of the story) will be done in three parts. Sorry for the confusion.**

**Just to summarize…**

**Part 1 – **Artie and Mrs. Abrams getting into the accident and being brought to the hospital.

**Part 2 – **Mr. and Mrs. Abrams meeting Artie's doctor and finding out in injuries. Also, getting to see him one he is out of surgery.

**Part 3 – **Artie waking up and… well I don't want to give it away. Don't worry though; part three will definitely be the last part then that will be the end of the story.


	8. Update:

**This is just an update to let everyone know what's going on.**

**So my computer crashed and I lost nearly all of my work. Plus I didn't e-mail it to myself so I lost part 3. plus I really won't have time to rewrite it that much for the next week so everyone can expect an update maybe Monday (March 21).**

**I am really **_**really **_**sorry for the delay.**

**MiniKimChi**


	9. And It Still Isn't Pt3

Miracles Don't Happen Once

~*~*~*~*~*살다~*~*~*~*~*~*~*꿈~*~*~*~*~*~*~*사랑~*~*~*~*~*~*

**So this is the last part for this section of the story. Sorry that I am splitting it up so much but I really think this was the easiest way to separate it. Also it builds suspense, which is what the ****Abrams**** are feeling too.**

It just puts the reader into the story a little more.

Sorry about the part again and that it is SO late! (**ㅜ****.****ㅜ****)**

MiniKimChi (**미니김치****)  
**  
***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Chapter 6c ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
**  
A week… A whole week Mr. and Mrs. Abrams sat by their son's side. They never left only to go home and shower but they did that in shifts, only one leaving at a time. To eat, they took shifts too, never letting Artie out of both their sights for more than a second, if that. They talked to him, telling them about what they were planning to do when he woke up or what happened that day.

Artie still remained on his stomach because the doctors did not want to put any unnecessary pressure of his broken vertebrae. They feared, that if there were any pressure on the vertebrae, there would be other serious complications.

Earlier that day, the doctors had started to wean Artie off of the sedatives that were keeping him in the darkness of his own mind. They told Artie's parents that it would take a couple hours for him to wake up and suggested that they went home but they refused. Artie was about to wake up after a week and they couldn't leave him now.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Two hours. That was how long Mr. and Mrs. Abrams waited for their son to wake up. They waited two hours longer than they wanted, but seeing those pale blue eyes open for the first time in a week, made everything worth it. Just seeing Artie conscious made the Abrams remember what they had been waiting for. Artie was pretty out of it, looking at his parents but not fully aware that he _was_ looking at them.

"Artie?" Mrs. Abrams asked, gently brushing the hair out of Artie's eyes and rubbing his back carefully, as to not hit the injured part of his back. "Baby, say something."

Artie smiled his toothy grin. "Morning. Did I over sleep for school?"

Mrs. Abrams let out a half laugh half sob. "No sweetie. Don't worry, everything's okay."

All three Abrams talked for a while more. It was mostly just Mr. and Mrs. Abrams talking and Artie listening since he was still pretty out of it. They talked for about half and hour, until Dr. Perry came into the room.

"You finally with us Artie?" Dr. Perry asked, a playful smile on his face.

Artie looked confused. "Where did I go?"

Dr. Perry laughed. "Nowhere. Can I do a few tests?" he asked and Artie nodded confused as to why this man just asked him if he could do tests. What tests and why? Artie just hoped it wasn't math. He hated math.

Slowly Dr. Perry walked over to the bed while Artie's parents moved away from it. Dr. Perry carefully opened the back of Artie's hospital gown and it was only then that Artie noticed he wasn't wearing normal clothes.

"Mommy? Where are my regular clothes?"

Mrs. Abrams looked to Dr. Perry, unable to come up with an answer herself. Dr. Perry looked at her, telling her to just tell Artie the truth.

"Sweetie, we were in a car accident," Mrs. Abrams started blinking away the tears that were forming in her eyes. "You were hurt really badly.

Artie nodded like he understood but some confusion was still in his eyes. He tried to remember an accident but couldn't.

Artie felt soft hands gently touch his back. They were kind and gently, never pushing too hard or moving too fast. They carefully moved down Artie's back and he smiled. They were warm and reminded him of his dad's. But suddenly they vanished.

"Mommy, where did the warm hands go?"

Mrs. Abrams' eyes went wide and she hid her head in her hands. She just couldn't tell her son about how drastically his life was now. She just couldn't.

Mr. Abrams looked at Dr. Perry, hoping he would tell Artie. Mr. Abrams couldn't form the words.

"Artie," Dr. Perry said, moving and kneeling so that he was eye to eye with Artie. "Remember how your mom told you you were in an accident?" Artie nodded. "Well that accident really hurt you."

"I don't feel hurt," Artie cut in.

"Being hurt doesn't mean that you have to feel hurt." Dr. Perry said then he took a deep breath. "When you were in the accident, your spinal cord was cut. Artie, I want you to tell me if you can feel this." Dr. Perry stood up and went to the bottom of Artie's bed. He began to tickle Artie's feet.

"Feel what?" Artie asked looking down towards Dr. Perry.

"Artie, I want you to move your toes."

Artie began to do so. "Okay, I moved them now what?"

"Artie, you didn't move your toes." Dr. Perry said moving towards Artie's head again.

"Yes I did. Look." Artie began to move his toes again.

"Artie, in the accident, when your spinal cord was cut, you lost to ability to control your legs."

Artie's eyes went wide. "Mommy?" Tears began to roll down his cheeks and wet the pillow.

"Artie, it's okay baby. You're going to be fine okay? Shhh, shhh, everything is fine." Mrs. Abrams said wiping the tears from both his and her face. She tried to calm her son but she was trying to calm herself as well.

Mrs. Abrams looked at the doctor who gave her a look of apology. Looking at her husband, he gave her a look of sorrow and approval for her being strong in that situation. Looking at Artie, she smiled. Artie had fallen asleep, worn out from his current situation. But her smile didn't last.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Five hours. That was how long Artie slept. Five hours of his parents wondering how he would react once he woke up and five hours of his parents fearing when he did. They knew he would be different but they weren't sure on just how different he would be. When Artie's eyes did open, they knew something was wrong. His eyes just didn't have the same light to them and even his mouth was forced into a smile that resembled pain more than happiness.

"Sweetie?" Mrs. Abrams asked cautiously, fearing the answer that she would get back.

"Hi mom," Artie answered back, the words sounding lifeless.

"How are you feeling?" Mr. Abrams asked. He rubbed his son's back but Artie flinched away.

"Fine." But that one word told another story. Artie wasn't feeling fine. He was feeling horrible. He had just received the worst news of his life. Why would he be fine?

"Do you want to get something to eat?" Mrs. Abrams inquired to her son. She wanted Artie to get out of bed and the doctors had given them the okay for him to move around.

Artie just shook his head no.

"I could bring you something." Mrs. Abrams offered.

Again, Artie just shook his head no.

"Do you feel sick?" Mr. Abrams said, a hint of worry in his voice. He knew that some of the medicines Artie was on, could result in him feeling sick.

"No," Artie answered, his answer sounding more like one long breath than actual an word.

Mrs. Abrams looked at her son. She wanted him to move around and be active instead of just lying on the bed doing nothing. "Artie do you-"

"I don't want to!" Artie yelled, tears forming in his eyes. Mr. and Mrs. Abrams, stunned, carefully took a step back.

"Okay, then what do you want to do?" Mrs. Abrams asked Artie as she slowly moved closer towards his bed.

"Walk..."

Mrs. Abrams stopped suddenly, that one word cutting through her like a knife. It wasn't a want in just a want sense, but a need. Artie needed to walk, even if it was only for him.

"Well, sport, how about we roll?" Mr. Abrams went out into the hall and when he returned, he pushed in front of him a little red wheelchair.

Artie just smiled. It was nice that he would be able to have his own wheelchair, but his smile fell. He realize he was looking at the only thing that, for the rest of his life, would be the only way he would get from point A to point B. He wouldn't even be able to go this his room upstairs when he got home.

He turned his head to look at his left arm. It was wrapped in a blue cast that went all the way up his forearm and past his elbow.

Mr. Abrams noticed what Artie was looking at and thinking. "Don't worry, mommy and I will help you get around until you can do it yourself."

Artie just nodded, his eyes looking a little duller than before.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
**  
Mr. Abrams walked down the hall a cup of coffee in one hand and a rainbow chocolate chip cookie in the other. He was hopping a cookie would cheer Artie up a little and after being up for so long, Mr. Abrams was looking forward to the coffee.

Walking towards the elevator, he noticed someone sitting by the stairs. The person was just sitting there, unmoving, and looking down the flight of steps to the landing below.

"Artie?" Mr. Abrams asked carefully, "What are you doing over there?"

Artie didn't answer nor did he flinch. Instead he continued to look down the stairs and his hands moved to grip his wheels.

Mr. Abrams' eyes went wide. "Artie?" he asked again taking a step forward. "I want you to back away from those steps right now."

Artie just shook his head no. At least he was listening.

"Artie, listen to me Sport, that's not the way. Come here. Let's talk about this."

"That's all they want to do," Artie said his words almost a whisper. He was shaking and tears were streaming down his cheeks.

Mr. Abrams knew who and what Artie meant. They were all the therapists and psychologists that visited him. They were all the people who forced him to talk about what happened and about his legs. They were everyone who just made the situation worse than it already was. After each visit, Artie seemed even more depressed but everyone swore he was improving.

A sob brought Mr. Abrams back to the present. "Dad?" Artie asked and Mr. Abrams stopped to listen. It had been a while since Artie had talked to him. "Do you still love me?"

Mr. Abrams could feel the tears forming in his eyes and a lump forming in his throat. "Of course I do," he coughed clearing his throat. "Why wouldn't I?"

Artie sniffled and a pang of guilt shot itself straight through Mr. Abrams' heart. Artie folded his hands in his lap, twisting and fidgeting them. "You never hug me anymore."

Mr. Abrams stood silently, thinking about what to say. "Do you want a hug now?"

Artie just sat there while his father continued to look at his son's back. Mr. Abrams didn't know what to do nor what he _could_ do.

All in one motion, Artie grabbed the wheels in his chair and pushed them forward, with an excessive amount of force, towards the stairs and over the edge.

Mr. Abrams' mind didn't have time to process what his body was doing before he reacted. The coffee and cookie fell to the floor entirely forgotten as the echoing of ringing metal reverberated off the stairwell walls.

Mr. Abrams extended his hand trying to reach Artie in time as his legs propelled his forward as fast as they could.

"Artie!" Mr. Abrams yelled at his son. "Don't you EVER do ANYTHING like that again!" he finished a bit softer but still rather harsh towards he son as he sat on the floor clutching a crying Artie to his chest.

Artie just sobbed into his father's chest, his tears soaking through Mr. Abrams' shirt.

Together, father and son sat on the floor holding each other. Artie sat in his father's lap, while Mr. Abrams gently rocked him back and forth.

They sat there for sometime, neither wanting to move and neither willing to either. The halls were empty but even if someone passed by, the two would not have noticed a thing. Their only worry in the world was having each other in the others arms.

Artie had since quieted down and Mr. Abrams was worried he had fallen asleep. "Artie?" he gently asked.

Artie looked up at his father and Mr. Abrams smiled back down at him.

"Come on," Mr. Abrams continued, shifting himself and Artie into a mote comfortable position, "Let's walk back to the room.

Artie's eyes suddenly went dull and his head fell to look at his legs.

"I don't want any of that." Mr. Abrams carefully stood up bring Artie with him. Shifting Artie so that his back was to Mr. Abrams stomach, he carefully set Artie's lifeless feet on his own. He wrapped his arms around Artie's chest and Artie looked up confused.

Carefully Mr. Abrams took a step, Artie's foot following. He took another. Artie looked down at his feet. He was walking. Even though it was not on his own, he was walking!

Finally only one more chapter to go! The last chapter should be up really soon because it is just a short one to wrap the story up.

**Sorry for the wait on this one!**

**Please comment and review. It is always appreciated!**


	10. You Brought Me Comfort

Miracles Don't Happen Once

~*~*~*~*~*살다~*~*~*~*~*~*~*꿈~*~*~*~*~*~*~*사랑~*~*~*~*~*~*

**Sorry it is late. I thought I posted it and turns out I didn't. Mianhae!**

Thank you to everyone who has read this story and a HUGH thank you to everyone who commented on it!

This is the last part but I am currently in works on a few other stories… I just need to decide on which to post.

Thank you all so much and please look forward to my other stories!

**MiniKimChi  
**  
***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Chapter 7 ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
**

"I remember, for a while you wouldn't go anywhere unless I let you 'walk'," Mr. Abrams said as he air quoted the word walk.

Artie laughed. "Well I really wasn't up for sitting in a chair every second of every day so…" Artie let out a soft chuckle, "It was way better than where I was."

Mr. Abrams nodded. He knew it was much better than where his son had been. Mr. Abrams now didn't have to worry about if his son was alone for fear of killing himself and he didn't have to wonder what could or couldn't be used as a device for Artie to hurt himself either.

It had been a long and hard process to get Artie back to his normal self, the self that was happy and didn't flinch at anything. The self that took the chance to learn and do new things no matter how dangerous or how crazy it seemed.

The Abrams family began to pack all of the photos away.

"Wow, is it really that late? I have to start dinner!" Mrs. Abrams exclaimed as she hurried to the refrigerator to get the dinner out and into the oven.

Artie slower moved from the table and down the hall to the bathroom to get ready. "Hey mom?" He asked and Mrs. Abrams turned to look at her son. "Thanks."

Mrs. Abrams smile at her baby and Mr. Abrams hid his smile as he thought about the past.

It had been 8 years since the accident and even when Artie thought that no one could help him it turns out that the people who blames themselves for the accident is the one, in the end, that is able to help the once affected by the accident.

Thank you to ALL who has read this! Hopefully I will be posting again soon since I have a few more ideas up my sleeve. My mom suggested something about deafness but I'm not really sure how to include it into a story. Maybe it will work.

**Please look forward to future posts!**

**THANK YOU!**

**MiniKimChi \(^-^)/**


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